


The Same

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-23 03:43:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2532881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(For Connie. I am so so sorry that this is so late. And so short.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Same

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alayne_StoneColdFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alayne_StoneColdFox/gifts).



There is the future and then there are _futures_.

Some of them are happy. Some of them are sad. In some of them, ones she's passed so long ago she can barely sense them, she is complete. Has always been complete.

Her mother lives. Her brother is kind. David lives. The world is kind.

She tells him about them sometimes, in low whispers and murmurs so nobody else can hear.

(Because they wouldn't understand)

She won't stop talking _talking_ sorry because she likes it. She likes forming words with her actual lips, likes the movement of her jaw, loves everything that's put in to make the sounds real.

Makes her more real, makes him more physical.

She imagines, the more you see the more can you imagine (and despite the blindfold, she's seen far more than most people). She imagines the happy futures, ones where there are shared bedrooms and held hands, and wishes she could make them real.

She dreams of impossible mortgages and hyphenated names and wishes they could use that power (the power he's always been terrified of, always been running away from) to make them real.

There are sad worlds where they are together too, ones she sees even if she doesn't want to.

There are ones where she holds him, fingers brushing through his broomlike hair, but the David in her arms is not a David she knows. In others, he is dead, gone and buried, hated but not misunderstood. And in many, thousands upon thousands, he is simply Legion.

In many, she is dead. In more, she is mad. There are endless " _no no nos_ ", countless repetitions of " _I'm sorry_ " but things still happen.

And then there is this world, her world.

She wakes up late sometimes, far later than Wolverine is happy with. The morning sunlight warms her skin, his gentle voice warms her heart.

He is chatty then, far more confident in his small talk than he's ever been in anything else. He smells as she smells, tastes as she tastes, complimenting Anole's omelets.

He laughs as she laughs, airy and lighthearted, no longer drenched in madness.

He cries as she cries, no tears but the feeling underneath all the same.

There are happy futures and there are sad futures. But the future they want to see together is one and the same. 

 


End file.
